His Little Spitfire
by desibookworm
Summary: "After all these years she was still his little spitfire."  Companion to "Get Out Alive" but can be read separately.


Sirius sighed, staring up at the ceiling of what was once his teenaged bedroom. He'd placed Permanent Sticking Charms on the lot of the decorations there, though he'd never ever brought anyone in here. Too many bad memories, too many memories of sitting locked up in this room, listening to the screams of pureblood mania from his parents. It was all too real, all too familiar, being back in this room.

He never thought he'd be forced back into this house. Now that he was, he felt like he did at the age of sixteen: restless, edgy, desperate to get out. He knew that, unlike last time, he couldn't. _The risk is too great_.

He felt a burning resentment and bitterness toward Dumbledore, who he felt didn't understand the position he was in. Dumbledore was free to go wherever he pleased. Dumbledore didn't have the entire Wizarding world looking out for him, so they could gain the reward on his head.

_Though the way he's carrying on, I suppose he may yet._

He sighed. He considered a romp outside as Snuffles the dog…but according to Harry, Lucius Malfoy had recognised him at the platform. Hermione and Mrs. Weasley were both giving him the 'it's for your own good' speech, always in accordance with what Dumbledore said, never questioning it.

Sirius' striking grey eyes fell on the picture he'd stuck to the wall, of him, Remus, Peter and James. Well, Peter had walked out of it, the dastardly coward, but Remus and James were smiling at him, just as they had fourteen years ago.

He closed his eyes against the onslaught of memories, all the horrors of Azkaban. Listening to the screams of the prisoners and listening to those inside his head. It was making him mental. He hated it. He just wanted it all to stop. He hated those memories. All those years of separation, of confinement, of total isolation.

Sirius hated being confined. He hated it here when he was a teenager, he hated it in Azkaban and he hated it here now. Swimming back to the mainland, even as thin and malnourished as he was, gave Sirius such a wonderful sense of relief as he tasted freedom in the air, rather than depression. He'd have given anything for that. He sometimes could still feel the frigid desolation that accompanied the dementors every time one got near him, and the horrid memories that played like it was on a loop in his head.

Sirius didn't hear the door open. He felt someone sit on the bed beside him and take his hand. "You're thinking about Azkaban again, aren't you?" a soft voice said.

Sirius looked into his wife's face. Elisa still looked the same as she did fourteen years ago. Still dark-haired, blue-eyed, and beautiful. She could read him like a book, and she always knew when he was lying to her. He sighed and let go of her hand. She looked slightly disappointed, though she should have known that he could read her just as well as she could him. He pulled her into his arms instead. "Yeah. And all the good old times." His voice broke, and to his shame, tears streamed down his face, as he, for the first time, properly grieved for what had been lost in the first war.

Elisa rubbed his back and his hair, waiting for him to let everything out. He'd been alone for so long, unable to grieve for so long, that it was no wonder that he was breaking down now. She wiped his tears when he was done. His tough Auror wife was normally blunt and sarcastic, but it was the moments like this where her kindness and compassion showed itself, her loyalty to those few that she truly cared for. And for that Sirius was truly grateful.

"Sorry, Elizabeth," he whispered, coaxing a smile from her when he said her real name, the name she'd loathed for so long, that he'd used to piss her off for so long.

"It's okay," she whispered back. "Do you want me to go? I know you don't like people in here."

"No. Stay. You're all I need right now."

Elisa tried not to smile at the flattery. Tried and failed. Really, Sirius still knew every facet of her, and really, they'd picked up right where they'd left off. No bad blood between them.

Sure, they still argued with each other like there was no tomorrow. But that was what they did before, and if that had changed then Remus would take them both to St. Mungo's to get their brains checked out. Not a day passed when the two of them didn't argue. But their arguments always led to making up later. And they loved those moments.

Elisa sat with Sirius in silence, listening to the sound of his breathing as he calmed down. He played with the fingers on her hand, and twirled the wedding band around her left hand. Fifteen years they'd been married and after Azkaban she'd always kept that band on a chain around her neck. She'd taken to wearing it on her finger again when the Order of the Phoenix reconvened.

"You need a shower. You smell terrible."

"Blunt as usual, darling," Sirius said sarcastically. But he stood up, so as to comply with her wishes, because he smelled like stale drink.

"If I have to share your bed you'd best smell like roses, not like spirits."

Sirius smirked at her. "I thought you liked spirits."

Elisa scowled. "Go shower, Sirius. Get off your arse because I refuse to be married to a convict _and_ a drunk."

"Such love. I do wonder why I hadn't come back to you sooner," Sirius said, in the same sarcastic voice.

"More like I came back to you."

Sirius looped an arm around her waist, and breathed in her ear, "You want to place a bet on that?"

"Like you would have recognised me if I hadn't _told_ you who I was."

"I had my suspicions."

"Sure you did. Keep telling yourself that," Elisa said, matching his sarcasm. She tried to pull out of his arms. "Let go, Sirius."

"No, I don't think I will," Sirius said, a mischievous grin on his face as he tightened his grip on her.

"Go shower!"

"Only if you join me."

"I don't need to. Let go!"

"Kiss me and I'll think about it."

"Sirius!"

"Elizabeth!" he said, mocking her.

"You're insufferable."

"And yet you love me."

"I'm questioning that."

"But you still do."

"Fat chance."

"Not what you said fifteen years ago. Not what you said last year in the hospital wing with Harry. Not what you said this morning."

"Oh for the love of Merlin-"

"Best change that saying to 'for the love of Sirius'. Merlin's old and dead."

"Idiot."

"Yeah but I'm _your_ idiot," he said, going for the cheesy line, surprised when she smiled. She normally wasn't into cheesy lines.

"Yeah you are. Who else would put up with you for so long? More importantly, who else would stay celibate for fourteen years while you were wasting away in Azkaban," she said sarcastically. He smirked. "Now please go shower. Molly, Arthur, Tonks, Remus and Mad-Eye are coming over for dinner and I'd rather you be clean when we entertain guests.

"Yes, mother," Sirius said mockingly, still not letting her go.

"Please let go?"

"I told you, kiss me and I'll think about it."

Elisa rolled her eyes, leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his in a sweet kiss. She pulled back when she felt him get into the kiss, pushing him away, and breaking his hold in one move. She grinned. "Now, Sirius, I've kissed you, now you can go take your shower. You'll feel so much better. Go clean up."

Sirius stared at his wife. She had changed, yet she was still just the same. He didn't know why he was acting this way, but he went with it. "I love you, Elizabeth," he said suddenly as she turned to leave.

Elisa stopped and turned, smiling tenderly at him. "I love you too, Sirius," she said softly. "Now if you don't get your arse into the shower in the next five minutes I'm going to hex you into it with all your clothes on."

Sirius barked with laughter. After all these years she was still his little spitfire.


End file.
